


Meeting the Master

by azriona



Series: Advent Calendar Drabbles 2013 [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Advent Calendar Drabble, F/M, First Meetings, Mustaches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 11:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azriona/pseuds/azriona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Morstan meets Sherlock Holmes.   It doesn't go the way he expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting the Master

**Author's Note:**

> The fourth installment of this year’s Advent Calendar Drabbles. Today’s prompt is from , whose prompt will appear at the end of the fic, as otherwise it’ll ruin the surprise. (Thus it’s also not the story title, breaking with my own Advent Calendar tradition.) Gillie specified Sherlock/John; I ignored that and I hope she forgives me. 
> 
> Spaces still available; [please leave a prompt if you’d like](http://azriona.livejournal.com/853261.html)! (Also, my husband is likely to request Thomas the Train/Lightning McQueen, and if nothing else, you can do a good turn by saving me from that fate.)

Sherlock felt his spine stiffen almost involuntarily as Mary Morstan advanced on him, fire in her eyes and a look of fierce determination on her face. Behind her, John Watson looked on apprehensively, perhaps a bit taken aback himself by the rapid change of sweet, demure lady to raging hormonal beast of fury once she had been introduced to his formerly dead best friend. 

“Sherlock Holmes,” said Mary – no, _thundered_ , as she approached him. “I have just one thing to ask you.” 

Here it comes, thought Sherlock. The recitation of _how could you, do you know what you did to him, he mourned for years, don’t you know how many deaths he’d already seen, and you forced him to watch yours._

Boring! 

Mary stood directly in front of him now, raised on her toes and staring up as if she stared straight ahead. 

“Sherlock Holmes,” said Mary, eyes narrowing. “What do you think of John’s moustache?” 

Sherlock blinked, momentarily shocked into silence. 

“ _What_?” yelped John. 

“Horrific,” said Sherlock, unable to say anything but the truth. 

“Oi!” 

“ _Ha_!” crowed Mary, and rounded on John, pointing at him. “I told you!” 

“As if a caterpillar crawled onto his lip and died,” continued Sherlock helpfully. 

“You said Sherlock would love it,” said Mary triumphantly. 

“Oh, John,” sighed Sherlock. “Honestly. You’re growing a hairbrush out of your upper lip.” 

“It’s _distinguished_.” 

“It’s deplorable.” 

“And now it’s gone, because I win,” said Mary, smug now, and she flounced to sit on the chair. _Sherlock’s_ chair, he noted. “Off you pop to shave it off.” 

“I hate you,” John informed the room. Sherlock thought he probably directed it at both of them. 

“Of course you do,” said Mary, completely unconcerned. “Razor’s in the loo.” 

John turned on his heel, and a moment later, Sherlock heard the water running. Mary crossed her legs and picked up a nearby magazine, as if the entire world had not just experienced a seismic shift. 

Of course, she was still sitting in his chair. 

“That’s my chair,” said Sherlock. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mary apologized sweetly, and quickly moved to sit in John’s. Sherlock, never taking his eyes off her, sat down, and waited. 

It didn’t take long. 

“If you’re going to make me say it,” said Mary. 

“I am,” said Sherlock. 

“All right then. If you break his heart again, I’ll break your kneecaps.” 

Sherlock nodded once, briskly. He had no doubt that she could. 

“And thank you,” added Mary. 

“For not liking the moustache?” 

“No,” said Mary, and she leaned forward and kissed Sherlock on the cheek. Her lips were warm and dry, and Sherlock held his breath. His heart skipped a beat, and his head swam, and for half a moment, he wondered if this was what it felt like to fall in love. 

“Thank you for coming _back_ ,” said Mary, and smiled, as if there was nothing more to be said.

**Author's Note:**

> The specific prompt was “moustache.” From what I see, John’s moustache doesn’t last the whole of Series 3; this is my idea for why he might have shaved it off.


End file.
